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kid poem

truely
tempesta
la nerezza ruba le forme di tutte le regine
la nerezza
fate sentirsi
non sia arrabbiato con me
nelle mattine nube-grige
mi sono sentito che una principessa sicura
agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina
quando vado di nuovo a terra
babylon -- dove vado sognare
behold me, in miei chiffon, garza e canutiglia
ciò è la canzone della gioventù
un miglio dietro

 



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